


How to Count the Ways

by Miri1984



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Short Fics, kiss prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 14:49:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20472830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miri1984/pseuds/Miri1984
Summary: A collection of prompts for Ed/Tjelvar taken from tumblr.





	1. I almost lost you

Tjelvar heard Ed scream a warning before the floor dropped away under his feet. His last thought before he hit something sharp and invasive was that he should have known not to tread there. He knew this tomb better than he knew his own hand, why was he so distracted…

_…Oh that’s right, Ed had been talking, describing something about the hieroglyphs that Tjelvar had taught him the last time they’d been here and Tjelvar had caught himself smiling, gazing at Ed and thinking how much he’d learned, how much he’d been able to take in when he wasn’t being pushed and hounded and belittled, and he had forgotten to count his steps properly and the floor under one of his boots had shifted in that subtly wrong way that Tjelvar should have known far better than he did and then there had been a…_

_…click._

He came too on the floor, his head cradled in Ed’s lap, the rich warmth of Ed’s healing flowing through his limbs and making them heavy with languor. 

He could hear Ed muttering under his breath, reaching out to Apollo, although he couldn’t make out the exact words of the prayer he could definitely hear the desperation in Ed’s voice. He opened his mouth to tell Ed he was okay, it was all right, when another wave of healing washed through him and the only sound he could make was a soft gasp of pleasure. 

“Tjelvar?” Ed’s eyes locked on Tjelvar’s and the glow around his hand faded as it came up to gently cup Tjelvar’s face. “Oh thank Apollo!” his eyes lit up and he smiled and Tjelvar blinked in confusion and let out a surprised “hmph” as Ed… 

…kissed him full on the lips.

Tjelvar couldn’t do anything but blink for a moment when Ed pulled back, shock written plain across his face.

“Oh,” he said. “Oh that wasn’t… I shouldn’t have…” Ed shifted Tjelvar off his lap, lying him down hurriedly but carefully on the floor of the tomb before scrambling backwards, and standing up, his hands out in front of him. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean… I mean I _did_ mean to but I should have… I thought I’d lost you and obviously you don’t… I _shouldn’t_ have done that and I’m…”

“Ed!” Tjelvar said, sitting upright with no difficulty (of course, he was fine, Ed’s healing was exemplary, it always was), “Eddie breathe!”

“But I_ ki…”_ he swallowed around the word as though he were terrified of it, “I didn’t _ask_ and you probably…” 

Tjelvar got up and crossed the distance between them in two strides, grasping Ed’s upper arms. “Ed,” he didn’t exactly shout, but there might have been a little bit of stern lecturer in his tone.

“Apollo, I’m really sorry Tjelvar I…”

Tjelvar shook his head, reaching up with one hand to put his finger on Ed’s lips. Ed’s stream of apologies stuttered to a stop, and he blinked down at Tjelvar, cheeks flushed pink and eyes wide. “It’s okay,” Tjelvar said, and brushed his thumb along Ed’s bottom lip, his fingers gently cradling Ed’s jaw. Ed let out a soft “uh” before his eyes fluttered shut and Tjelvar felt knowledge settle in his gut together with an aching, gentle warmth.

“Mmm…” Ed said, still trying to articulate but obviously distracted now, as Tjelvar busied himself with mapping the exact shape of Ed’s jaw under his hand, wanting to memorise it by touch as he already had by sight. “Mmmm bu… but I _kissed…”_

He tugged Ed down to him and replaced the thumb that had been tracing the shape of Ed’s bottom lip with his own mouth, slipping his hand around to the back of Ed’s neck and stepping confidently into the circle of Ed’s arms. 

Ed’s attempt at an apology was muffled by the kiss, if it _was_ still an apology and not just Ed’s sounds of approval. After a second or so Tjelvar felt a tentative hand on his waist and some of the tension ease from Ed’s neck, and Tjelvar felt safe enough to pull back and look Ed in the eyes.

Which were still closed. There was a small frown on his face and his lips were parted and slightly moist. “Ed?” Tjelvar said, and Ed’s eyes opened. He looked dazed, Tjelvar noted, with not a little pride. 

“Yes Tjelvar?” Ed said.

“I _really_ don’t mind that you kissed me,” Tjelvar said, and Ed caught his lip between his teeth for a second before smiling like the sun.

“Oh,” he said. “Oh well that’s great then, isn’t it?”

Tjelvar brushed a hand through Ed’s hair and pulled him down again so their foreheads touched, smiling almost as brightly as Ed. 

“Yes Ed,” he said. “It really is.”


	2. Morning People

Tjelvar isn’t a morning person. Ed found that out pretty early on in Cairo, having to creep around their shared room when sunlight started filtering through the window to get dressed without waking him, still afraid that his place in the new world wasn’t assured, trying as hard as possible to take up the smallest amount of space so he wasn’t told he didn’t belong.

He belongs now, he thinks, as the sun from the window illuminates Tjelvar’s sleeping face. Belongs exactly where he is, their two cots shoved together and the third piled with bits and pieces from the tomb. Tjelvar is neat when he is on an excavation, but tends to treat their room like the storage space under the now-deserted museum. Bits and pieces scattered here and there all labeled, all meticulously catalogued, just not… put away… yet.

Ed had to train himself not to do it himself. The church would never have let him be so messy, but there was something comforting about it, now, the mess reassuring him that yes, he’s here, he isn’t alone, or lost, he’s with  _ Tjelvar. _

It’s hard sometimes, to force himself out of bed, when Tjelvar is settled so perfectly in the circle of his arms, but Ed  _ is  _ a morning person, he needs to feel the sun on his face, the touch of Apollo in its warmth. It’s rare that there is enough light, what with the storms, but today the morning is relatively clear and he starts to shift, carefully, trying not to wake the sleeping orc.

Tjelvar murmurs something and his grip tightens around Ed’s waist, like he doesn’t want Ed to leave, like he needs to keep Ed  _ close.  _ The warmth that floods through Ed at that thought has nothing to do with the sun and he can’t stop himself from leaning over and pressing his lips to Tjelvar’s temple. 

Tjelvar makes a contented little ‘mmph’ sound that is…  _ really _ adorable so Ed presses another kiss slightly lower, then another across the freckles on Tjelvar’s cheek.

Tjelvar mumbles something that sounds like “Eddie it’s  _ early,”  _ but Ed has a plan now and it’s a  _ good plan.  _ Solid. Apollo would be  _ proud  _ of this plan and before Tjelvar can speak again Ed has cupped Tjelvar’s cheek and turned him so he can kiss him  _ properly. _

Tjelvar doesn’t open his eyes but Ed can feel the curve of his lips in a smile against Ed’s and Tjelvar’s free hand reaches up to tangle in Ed’s hair and  _ yeah this is the best plan Ed’s ever had, pretty much. _

When Ed pulls back Tjelvar’s eyes are open and he’s giving Ed the fondest smile and Ed feels a bit like his heart is going to burst from happiness.

“It’s  _ really  _ early, Eddie,” Tjelvar says again and Ed nods before allowing Tjelvar to tug him back down so his head is pillowed on Tjelvar’s shoulder, Tjelvar’s hand still tangled in his hair, fingers gently teasing the strands this way and that until Ed wants to purr with how good it feels.

He can stay in bed a little longer. The sun will still be there, after all.


	3. Giggles

There are days when Tjelvar wonders how he even got here. Five years ago he’d been struggling with hostile professors and scheming classmates and the most pressing issue of any given day was whether or not he could find the correct reference text for an important paper without Carter hiding it out of spite and now…

...and now…

Ed is the politest lover Tjelvar has ever encountered. There’s something quietly delightful about how he asks permission before doing _ anything _ remotely affectionate. At first Tjelvar thought it might have been because he was uncertain of Tjelvar’s regard, but after a long discussion one day after Ed had asked _ if he could hold Tjelvar’s hand _Tjelvar realised it is simply because Ed was meticulously and thoroughly brought up to be polite at all costs. (A darker thought occurs to Tjelvar, sometimes, that Ed’s family had tolerated exactly no missteps from their wayward son and Ed had learned the hard way that it was just safer to always ask). 

It’s charming, though. And sometimes hilarious. 

For example, right now, Ed has Tjelvar pressed up against a wall, one hand buried in Tjelvar’s hair just above where it is caught in its ponytail at the back of his neck, his entire body pressed against Tjelvar’s, eyes locked on Tjelvar’s lips.

“Can I…?” Ed says, softly and Tjelvar can’t help but grin. He nods, and Ed kisses Tjelvar, and Ed kisses like the sunshine he loves so much, warm and full and sweet as honey. 

But Tjelvar can’t help thinking about how earnest Ed looks, right before he asks, and he can’t help but wonder exactly what Ed would do if Tjelvar ever said _ no _ to one of these requests (not that Tjelvar ever would, he cannot think of a reason why kissing Ed could _ ever _be a bad idea) and he starts to chuckle, under his breath, even as Ed is kissing him, and Ed’s lips curve upwards and he pulls back and gives Tjelvar a quizzical look. “What?” he asks. “Did I do something wrong?” Tjelvar shakes his head.

“Of course not,” he says. 

“Why are you smiling then?”

“You make me smile,” Tjelvar says, and Ed beams, and hesitates before leaning in.

“Can… “

Tjelvar pulls him into the kiss before he can ask again and this time Ed laughs breathlessly with Tjelvar enough that the kiss dissolves into giggles. Tjelvar spares a brief thought for how those hostile professors and scheming classmates would react to seeing him like this, cradled in Ed’s arms, giggling like a twelve year old. 

With a surge of satisfaction, Tjelvar finds he doesn’t care about what they might think. Not even a little bit.


	4. Known

Ed knows a lot of things. He knows the best polish to use on his armour and the most effective way to swing his morningstar non-fatally. He knows that Apollo is watching over him and he knows the difference between evil and good, and he knows that he loves Tjelvar Stornsnasson with his whole heart.

He knows the important things.

What he’s not certain of, though, is whether or not he should tell Tjelvar that he loves him. Because he doesn’t know, can’t be certain any way, exactly how Tjelvar feels. He can… guess? He supposes Tjelvar wouldn’t smile like that when Ed walks into the room if Tjelvar found him annoying, he’s never seen that expression on, for example, the face of his father or his brothers.

Tjelvar likes him, but Ed doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable, would do anything not to see that expression falter and shut down, is, frankly, terrified that if he says anything Tjelvar will realise precisely how ridiculous this is and walk away.

Ed doesn’t want that.

So when it feels like the words are crowding against his lips, Ed will ask Tjelvar if he can kiss him, and Tjelvar will get this look in his eyes like it’s stupid of Ed to ask (not a mean look, just an exasperated, fond look, a look that Ed  _ loves  _ like he  _ loves Tjelvar)  _ and nod and Ed will kiss him and hope that somehow he can make Tjelvar understand how he feels without having to say it and spoil everything.

Today he feels the words early, while Tjelvar is buttoning his waistcoat, and Ed can’t explain exactly why that particular waistcoat is his favourite right now and he runs a hand across Tjelvar’s shoulders, looking into the mirror to catch Tjelvar watching him, eyes crinkled in a smile that hasn’t quite reached his mouth yet. Ed murmurs, “Can I…” and Tjelvar turns to him and Ed kisses his lips soft and quick before Tjelvar pulls back, one hand reaching up to tug at the hair near Ed’s temple. 

“I love you, Ed,” he says, and Ed blinks, because he  _ can’t  _ have heard that right, Oh  _ Apollo _ did Ed say it first, did his words come out wrong did he… but his train of thought is interrupted as Tjelvar kisses him again and this time it’s long and slow and so, so sweet that Ed’s scrambled thoughts disintegrate around him until he can think of nothing else but Tjelvar’s mouth and Tjevlar’s hand cupping his cheek, fingers tracing patterns on his skin.

“Oh,” Ed breathes when they finally part. “Um. I love you too Tjelvar,” he says, and Tjelvar nods as though he’s always known that and perhaps… 

...perhaps he did. 


	5. News

Ed gets the news about Frederick in the worst way possible, Tjelvar thinks, an offhand comment from one of the Apollo paladins who is visiting to report on the state of the church in general (not good) and the other paladins who have turned.

They run into her as she’s coming out of Curie’s office. “You’re Ed, then,” the paladin - a red haired woman with the brusque, cheerful demeanor Tjelvar can remember from that interminable tour of Notre Dame. Ed nods and gives her a bland smile - his polite smile, the one he saves for people he doesn’t know yet. “Frederick said you’d died in Rome.”

Tjelvar sees Ed blink. 

“Frederick? He’s alive? He’s all right?”

The woman nods. “Oh uh, yeah? He’s been stationed inland for the past six months didn’t you know?”

Ed frowns. “No one told me,” he says.

“Weird. Any way he’s fine. I’ll let him know you’re alive if you want.”

Ed swallows. “Okay?”

She shrugs and leaves with an offhand “Blessings of Apollo on you,” and Tjelvar wants to pull her back and interrogate her, but more than that he wants to find Frederick and ask him why he’d left Ed in Rome but he also really wants to kiss that expression of hurt from Ed’s face.

He can’t be rude to another paladin of Apollo (even if she deserves it, Ed wouldn’t like that) and he can’t hunt down Frederick and accuse him of abandoning his responsibilities but he definitely can kiss Ed, so when they’re in one of the less crowded corridors he does just that, gently pushing Ed against a wall and kissing him softly. Ed blinks when Tjelvar pulls back, and the smile is back and it’s_ not_ his polite smile. It’s one of the ones Tjelvar thinks only he gets to see. 

He loves that smile.

“What was that for?” Ed asks and Tjelvar kisses him again, one hand fisting in Ed’s shirt so it rucks up a little and mmmm, that’s a little too tempting for Tjelvar to ignore, so he gently presses his other hand against the now exposed skin of Ed’s stomach.

Ed lets out a small gasp against Tjelvar’s mouth, then a soft groan.

_Oh. Oh that is a nice sound. _Tjelvar deepens the kiss, crowding Ed against the wall now as one of Ed’s hands comes up to fist in Tjelvar’s hair and the other one slides down Tjelvar’s back, pressing them closer together. 

“Um,” Tjelvar pulls back, breathing hard, and turns to see the Apollo paladin standing a few feet from them, lips parted in surprise, cheeks flushed pink. Ed is breathing just as hard as Tjelvar and hasn’t removed his hand from Tjelvar’s hair; Tjelvar still has Ed’s shirt in one fist and he can only imagine how debauched they must both look, kissing like teenagers in a corridor. “Which is the way out?” she asks. Ed points, mutely. Tjelvar watches her go and can’t help but grin.

“Do you think she’ll tell Frederick about…”

Tjelvar moves the hand that’s still under Ed’s shirt and Ed’s mouth gives up on forming the rest of the words, another soft gasp falling from his lips.

“I honestly do not care if she does, Eddie,” Tjelvar says, and Ed grins again. “Now where were we?”


	6. Flustered

They don’t tell anyone. Ed reasons that it isn’t lying if they just don’t mention it and it’s actually nobody’s business but his and Tjelvar’s any way. Ed has never been one to pry into the private lives of other people since whatever they like to do is between them and whatever god they happen to worship.

He does feel a little guilty when he thinks about Apollo. But Apollo wants Ed to be happy, that much he knows, and Tjelvar makes him very happy indeed and the warm glow of Apollo’s regard hasn’t faded one bit since Tjelvar and he had…

… since Tjelvar.

They’re sitting through a briefing about the ongoing search for Guivres. Ed isn’t entirely certain why they’re trying to find the rogue Meritocrat so badly - perhaps it’s because she does have the capacity to glass all of Cairo should she discover their whereabouts. That seems like a good enough reason to know where she is and what she’s doing, although Ed privately thinks it must have been difficult to lose track of her in the first place. Dragons were, last he checked, very very big.

He glances across at Tjelvar, who is twirling a pencil between long fingers, looking politely interested in whatever it is that the Harlequin sitting next to him is saying. His eyes wander and catch Ed’s and Ed can’t help the rush of heat to his cheeks, but doesn’t want to look away. Tjelvar’s own lips twitch and Ed can see a darker flush to his cheeks as the Harlequin next to him says something directly to Tjelvar and Tjelvar blinks, turning to her, looking  _ flustered. _

_ Ed made Tjelvar look flustered. _

He stares down at his hands for the rest of the meeting, not able to stop the occasional smile but not trusting himself enough to look back up at Tjelvar. This is an important meeting after all. It’s a shame he can’t quite remember what it’s about.

Afterwards, he feels a touch on his arm as they’re filing out of the room. He glances down at Tjelvar, who is looking up at him with one eyebrow raised.

“You can be very distracting, Eddie,” he says.

“Mmmmm hmmm?” Ed says.

Tjelvar glances around them, then tugs on Ed’s sleeve, pulling him down a corridor. “What…?” Ed says, but Tjelvar doesn’t let him finish the sentence, instead reaching up and pulling Ed down to kiss him, quite thoroughly. Ed doesn’t quite know what to do with his hands, but he does know what to do with his mouth, and before they know it Tjelvar’s back is against a grandfather clock that tilts alarmingly.

Ed pulls back, laughing a little, then checks to make sure the corridor is clear.

It is, but the thrill of danger is also… kind of nice, so he dips his head and kisses Tjelvar again. It still seems utterly strange that he’s  _ allowed to do this  _ but he’s not going to question it, especially when Tjelvar hooks both arms around his waist and pulls him closer.

“What was that meeting about, any way?” Tjelvar asks, and Ed has a sudden surge of panic. 

“I don’t… I can’t remember, Tjelvar. I thought you would…”

Tjelvar shakes his head, smiling, and Ed realises he is joking. He rests his forehead on Tjelvar’s and lets out a short laugh.

If it was that important, they’d tell it to Ed again. He’d learned that a long time ago.


	7. Downpour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tjelvar really should remember to bring his umbrella.

Weather in the mountains of Sweden wasn’t exactly predictable, but then again in the mountains Tjelvar hadn’t had to carry important papers from one place to the next in the freezing sleet without an umbrella. Not that he could have held one at this point any way. It was a short trip, across the courtyard, from the library to his temporary office, it shouldn’t be so insurmountable.

Despite the oiled leather wrapping around the parchment in his hands he was not going to risk getting even a drop of water anywhere near them, so he was huddled against the doorway of the library (now closed) protecting it with his own body while he waited for the almost horizontal sleet to ease enough for him to risk the crossing.

A flash of gold at the other side of the courtyard didn’t help his current mood. He told himself it was perfectly natural for his heart to skip a beat as the polished gleam of Ed’s armor caught the light of one of the magical lanterns dotted around the campus. Ed took his duties very seriously, Ed was almost certainly worried that Tjelvar hadn’t returned to his quarters at the agreed upon time, Ed didn’t understand that Tjelvar sometimes got lost in the paths of his research so that he had to be ushered out into the cold and the wet so that the librarians could get some rest.

Ed was out looking for him, and Tjelvar felt both guilty and thrilled.

He opened his mouth to call out, then closed it again, thinking it would hardly help to catch Ed’s attention, since the Paladin didn’t have an umbrella. Tjelvar would still be stuck, waiting for the downpour to stop, and Ed would just be stuck with him.

Not that Tjelvar objected to spending time in Ed’s company, but it would feel uncharitable to force Ed into it, as he was far too polite to simply leave Tjelvar alone under the awning to wait.

Ed chose that moment to glance up, and Tjelvar didn’t have enough cover to not be noticed.

“There you are!” he said, smiling that astonishing smile, the one that tugged at Tjelvar’s chest and made him weak in the knees. 

An absolutely logical reaction to such an objectively beautiful person, Tjelvar was only mortal, after all. The fact that the feeling was growing more intense every time Ed happened to cross his path meant nothing. 

“Yes, Eddie,” he said, weariness heavy in his voice.

“You don’t have your umbrella,” Ed pointed out.

“No, Eddie,” Tjelvar hugged his papers more closely to himself.

“And you can’t risk getting those wet. All right then. I was worried when you didn’t come back.”

“I’m fine. You can leave me - this rain can’t last for too long.”

Ed smiled again and Tjelvar’s breath caught. “It’s all right, Tjelvar,” he said. “I don’t mind waiting with you.”

Tjelvar let out a breath, looking up into Ed’s wide blue eyes and utter sincerity.

He couldn’t help but smile in gratitude, and Ed’s face lit up if possible even further, as though the sun had broken through the dark skies and thickly falling rain and Tjelvar stood directly in its warmth. He opened his mouth to protest again that he was fine, that he didn’t need Ed to stay, that it was his own stupid fault for not thinking to pack his umbrella or at least a waxed folder in which to carry his work. 

“Thank you, Edward,” he said, instead, “I’d like that very much.”


End file.
